


Chair Sports

by stevegallacci



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2018-12-16 01:07:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11818008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevegallacci/pseuds/stevegallacci
Summary: Could not resist thinking about doing things in a sort of, kind of GoT universe, and what better thing than to Zootopia-ize it. Nicholas IV is the uneasy king of the northern wilds and the young Queen Judith of the 'Burrows hope to protect their realms against the murderous Empress bent on undoing the Great Peace between predator and prey. No Dragons though, but there are other magical things.





	1. Chapter 1

Obviously not a parody of George Pinemartin's epic fantasy series

Celia looked over at the imperial throne, now effectively hers, though the state of mourning for the fallen Emperor would delay her official ascension for a few more bothersome days. 

She looked to her Sisters, all looking appropriately contrite, well maybe not Karenia, but she was forever the inappropriate one. The rest of the court was doing its part, Leonardius VIII was an unremarkable ruler, but he was their Lord, and they held their fealty in earnest. 

She could tolerate five more days. After octades of enduring the attentions of that tedious old Lion, and all the maneuvering, and all the murders. Not just him, but all the potential male heirs, including her own sons. How she resented his ever putting them in her belly. But it was all done now. Thank the Old Gods for the irrational violence that was expected of the males of the species. 

Celia wondered how reliable those Lords' allegiance to her would be, especially when her ambitions were known? She didn't expect she had numbers, this would be unpopular to the wider masses as well as some Lords here, but she expected she would enjoy the support of powerful allies in and out of court, and the might of tooth and claw and steel would prevail in the end. 

00000

Nicholas IV stared at the proclamation that had been delivered from the capital. The new Empress had spared no time in issuing various edicts; most were fairly transparent efforts to consolidate her regime. The secret histories were full of accounts of the various Emperors who had done not dissimilar things. Of course they had to be secret accounts, as there tended to be a purging of the records, least someone dare to compare the vices and virtues of one ruler against another. 

But this document, a general renouncement of the Great Peace, was an act of madness. He and his forbearers, the whole reason that House Wilde even existed, was the defense of the Great Peace. Keeping the savage predators and equally belligerent prey species of the far north woods away from civilized folk, predator and prey alike. And now his Empress required that all predators 'be true to their nature and assert their full dominance over the lesser orders'. 

Such included that prey species could not hold property, title or rank. All could become subject as slave or serf or whatever disposition to any legitimate predator of any rank or holding. All material holdings of all prey species were to now be the property of the Crown, to be confiscated or redistributed as the Crown may see fit. To his personal revulsion, Nicholas was given license to oversee the local redistribution, as it was presumed he's know the right and deserving mammals to give such out to. 

"What do you make of this?" Nicholas held out the scroll to his unofficial Hand of the King, the diminutive Fennec, Finn. 

"She's a nasty one, your Empress. And this is cruel beyond words." His deep base voice as incongruous, but his desert accent stamped him as the foreigner he was. "You know what this will do to us little ones, not just the food."

The larger Fox grimaced and snarled at those last word. 

The smaller Fox just snorted back. "Just checking. There are too many beasts who will jump on this chance."

Nicholas growled back. "I would hope not. At least few with real ties to this place and it's folk. But there would likely be any number of ambitious types coming in from the south, happy to make the most of anything. It has always been a mystery to me how the Capital, the source of the Great Peace, has always been were the most resistance to it in practice."

"I'd wager its all the money, and lust for more. Too much commerce with those lands where the Great Peace has never held. All that gold to be had if only slavers and meat markets were allowed in." Finn observed.

Nicholas IV, King of the North, considered his position. "There is a way to not heed this." He rubbed his muzzle with one paw while waving the hated document with the other. 

"It would mean war, you know." Finn whispered. They were alone, but this was the kind of thing one dare not utter too loudly.

"And we would not necessarily win. But the alternatives wouldn't be much better, too many of our folk enslaved, and 'disposition' means food, so death in either case." He sighed. "And you're right, 'legitimate predator' could well be interpreted to mean only predators of size, as no small number of wolves are already unenthusiastic about even a Fox on the throne here in the north."

He had confidence that the bulk of his forces, and the common folk of all types, would respect and defend the Great Peace. It had been the binding force and source of kinship for too many for too long to be easily tossed aside. But there were ambitious beasts in the fold, interested in the throne, not that they would not, for the most part, actually rule any different. But he knew that any usurpation would sunder the kinships. He and his had always been King by compromise and consensus. Foxes, never trusted by anyone, could be held accountable by everyone. 

00000

Queen Judith, the first of her name, was tragically grateful her father and mother were not alive to see this outrage in the form of a proclamation and a party of great cat lords intent on exercising it's contents. She looked out over her privy court and the Imperial delegation that had delivered the damn thing. No small part of her was doubly insulted in that the party did not come with any body of soldiers beyond an escorting honor guard for the trip. They no doubt expected she and hers to simply vacate the palace with the reading of the document. 

"As the tradition of diplomatic respect for emissaries is still, for the moment, respected in these lands, I give you leave to go in peace."

"You forget your new status, as ordered by our Empress, you no longer have any power here." The haughty Tiger, king designate, snorted.

"Only if I concede to obey. And I do not." The young Doe's words were quiet and even, but she gripped the hilt of her sword of office, and there was a rustle in the background as a body of troops, the Queen's Guard, a mixed species formation, predator as well as prey, formed up along the walls of the chamber. 

The Tiger scowled, "Careful, 'Queen Judith', this could be considered rebellion."

The Queen snapped back, "This," Holding up then tearing the scroll apart, "Is already a declaration of war." 

The Tiger snarled and took a menacing step forward, clearly considering to take down the obstreperous little bunny. For her part, Judith stood firm, though a hint of bright steel shown beyond her scabbard. 

Though armed, Lord Kang lusted for blood on his claws and teeth, and there had been private discussion with his Empress about his choice of disposition of the little grey thing. But he was also no fool. Despite her age and gender, she was known for her skill with steel. And given the mood of the room, he suspected that none of his party would see its' exit alive if he dared tried to attack.

He collected himself and stiffly bowed to the Queen for a respectful exit. 

Unperturbed, Queen Judith nodded to all. "Then good day and fair travel My Lord. Though do remember you are now a representative of a foreign hostile power in these lands, and enjoy only the right of passage of a diplomat for you and yours." 

The Tiger nodded, stiffly, grudgingly, and the rest of his party bowed only just enough to not draw reaction. 

As they were well away from the palace, Lord Kang's Second, a sage older leopard had to ask. "M'Lord, this obviously can't stand. Do you have a plan beyond simply reporting this affront to the Empress?"

"Our Empress doesn't like bad news. But I don't expect I'll have to tell her, as I planned for something like this. There are several thousand troops, bivouacked well away from common traffic just beyond the boarders. I ought to have the throne and her pelt as my butt-wipe by the new moon." 

"Well done, M'Lord. No way they could muster any formations in time to counter."

"Exactly. And even if they do, what resistance could an army made up of bunnies possibly present?" 

"There are more than bunnies there." 

"Still mostly prey, and all of them will scatter at the first sight of blood. The few predators, mostly canids," Said with great distain, "Are as likely to turn on them as defend them." The Tiger stretched and gave a great toothy yawn. "There will be a lot of good eating coming."


	2. Chapter 2

The Imperial invasion of the 'Burrows did not start well. As was prudent, scouts were sent ahead to assess the route, but only a few came back, reporting that there were numerous tree falls across the road. Moreover, there were some small number of archers who had sniped away at them. 

For a marching army, the trees were no real problem, but as the column included carts for equipment and supplies, they were a time-consuming chore to clear. 

Then the archers, and slingers, tossing lead slugs and darts, popped up out of the woods to harass the column. As there seemed to be maybe only a score or so, they were of little threat to the totality of the force, but individual soldiers had to react to the potentially lethal rain, which slowed the column and made for a general level of frustration. 

To attempt to deal with the threat, some of the troops were allowed to pass off their marching kit and function as flanking skirmishers to hold the pesky beasts at bay. But for the most part all that did was to make themselves easier, shorter-range targets. But there were some occasional effective defenses, which brought a new twist to the action.

A pair of skirmishers had managed to bring down an attacker, a young whitetail buck. "Hoy, some fool boy got hisself turn to venison for tonight."

"Yep, though I never knew them to be so good with a bow. Your shot was not so bad either."

"Yeah, wasn't sure I got a kill hit at first. But he stopped thrashin' quick enough."

Looking closer, the one soldier became puzzled, "Say, that doesn't look like it would'a stopped him, eh?"

The other was a bit puzzled as well, and took a closer look at the body, then recoiled. "Gah! Look at his muzzle! What is that?"

The first soldier crouched down and waved his paw over the dead deer's face to sniff. "Damn! Poison! No way I'm touching that body!" Poison had a superstitious connotation, which made its use particularly dreadful.

They did take the bow and arrows to show their officer, but dared not touch the corpse directly.

The officer, a white-muzzled old Wolf, gave the pair an exasperated look as they approached. "This one got away too?"

"Nosir! Jackie here hit him, a whitetail, but - ." He looked away warily. 

Jackie finished the thought. "The awful thing was hit and down, but took poison, sir." 

The old wolf grimaced. Their logistics assumed a level of fresh meat to supplement their stores, a little detail that the few non-pred members of the formation, rhinos and other big beasts, had carefully not been made aware.

He personally was unenthusiastic about the change in status of prey species. True, he was not one to pass on something other than fish or fowl, but there had been some good soldiers in the ranks that had to be sent away. Turning battlefield dead into meat had been done, but in an unspoken, discrete fashion. More as a windfall opportunity than a matter of planning or policy, and done with a bit of respect as it had been the ancient ways. That it was now intended to be a matter of course was a bit much, especially among veterans and professionals in the ranks. 

Even the rumor of poison would turn troops away from that source, and he feared that this instance would not be the last. 

Then, more complications, as there was smoke in the distance and shortly, reports back of a village in flames. 

"What is it now?" Lord Kang fussed over the small stir of troops at the head of the column. An officer trotted back to report. "My Lord. The scouts report that Hannon's River village has been abandoned and set afire." 

The Tiger looked to one of his lieutenants for clarification. 

"It was to be our lunch time stopping point, had we not been delayed." The Mountain Lion was clearly unhappy, frustrated, as were most, over the petty harassments and distractions.

As this was not the main high way to the bunnies' capitol, villages that catered to road travel were relatively sparse, losing this first one was not a disaster, but the threat to future actions was obvious.

When the force finally arrived in what had been a tidy little village, all they found was largely burned out building, only a few stones standing, and any stores reduced to smoldering masses. Worse, all the wells were caved in, and the bridge over Hannon's River had been pulled down into a stream now reeking of pollution. 

Even as the engineers surveyed the ruins and how to make an improvised crossing, more columns of smoke could be seen, and everyone recognized the implication. 

00000

The Imperial invasion force arrived before the Hopps palace, five days later than planned due to the innumerable impediments to their progress. Lord Kang was secretly dismayed as he viewed it again. It had not been known for the extent or strength of its defenses, long more a royal residence than fortification. But there had been reinforcements, hasty and crude, but clearly effective against assault. How such could have happened was made clear as the army encamped just out of weapons range. 

It was a spy, a stoat, who provided some history, though little useful information as to how to gain entry.

"The east wing, the one that burned down last year and took so much of the Hopps clan with it, was going to be rebuilt and there was a goodly amount of material brought in to make a start on it." The tiny creature paused, perhaps an involuntary reaction to the memory of the lost King of the 'Burrow.

"So, as soon as the Imperial party was out the door, they tore down the old remains, still a lot of stone work, and that, with all the new material, threw up the new works. It isn't tidy, just a stack of stone and timber, but is double thick to make up for it's raw nature."

The imperial officers regarded the sketched layouts of the palace and were not happy. They didn't have siege engines or a party large enough to build any on the spot, but even if they did, the new and reinforced structures would make for a harder nut to crack. 

Moreover, they didn't plan for a siege of any kind, expecting an easy assault on a weakly defended mansion. And were half ready to see the Hopps holding simply surrender in the face of their might. But according to the spy, there was a goodly force of hooves as well as bunnies and other smaller mammals and even a few small cats and a wolf or two. 

After the spy was gone, Lord Kang came out to confer with the officers.

"I have to admit, that bunny's officers are a clever lot. First with the stalling tactics and now with the improvised defenses." More to himself than them. Then he did address them directly. "So, any good ideas?"

"Honestly?" His Leopard asked.

The Tiger grimaced. "To do this right, yes."

"Withdraw and come back with a force able to overwhelm any possible defense." The whole company stood frozen in shock and Lord Kang bristled. "We can not stay and wait for re-enforcements. They will be able to muster a substantial force long before any aid could arrive. I do not believe we would be overwhelmed, but we would be forced into an expensive fighting retreat."

Several officers cautiously nodded in agreement. One did point out the problem of withdrawal. "My Lord, bringing out our forces without a fight... Yes, we would remain an intact army to fight a future day, but we would also be an army that ran bloodlessly from bunnies. I fear for our fighting resolve thereafter. And, you, My Lord, would have to face our Empress with an embarrassment on the first action of her reign."

The other officers glanced around nervously with such candid and potentially political talk. 

Lord Kang rubbed his face in frustrated consideration. "I don't like the thought of retreat for all those reasons. But, I agree we cannot stay. Perhaps we can inflict a bit of punitive punishment to the neighborhood instead? If they can deprive us provision with fire and poison, perhaps we can return the favor?" 

There were some more vigorous nods of agreement at that. 

"Alright then. Let's salvage the campaign. Make plans for an action in the next days. Let the troops recover a day, it has been a challenging march, and then let's see a bit of the 'Burrows burn. 

00000

Empress Celia growled and scratched her head in frustration. How could an experienced warrior find himself so flatfooted against what was expected to be an inferior force of mere prey? She reread the dispatch again. While encamped outside the Hopps Palace, considering his plan of attack, Lord Kang's army was counter-attacked at dawn the day after arriving. Only a scattered rabble of survivors made it back to the boarders. The fate of the Tiger was not yet known. 

Whoever this young Queen was, or more likely, some predator general under her command, he had exploited the under-strength and ill-prepared force that had been sent against him. The 'Burrows clearly had more assets than anticipated, that and the blatancy of their rebellion against their rightful Empress meant that they needed to be brought low, hard, fast and final. 

If Lord Kang was lost, then she could offer the command, and the territories to the House Lynx, a land with a long and contentious history with their neighbors to the south. Kang wasn't a bad sort, for a Tiger, but he had attempted to subdue those damn bunnies on the cheap, then underestimated them at every step. That kind of failing was unacceptable and he would not survive the shame he'd brought on the Empire. 

00000

After uncountable hours bound and hooded, Lord Kang had the hood removed to blink blindly in the modest light. He appeared to be in a smallish though well appointed apartment. A window, with iron bars, suggested the quarters of a loyal hostage or some such. Nicer than a cell, but still a prison.

He then made note of his captors, damn bunnies again, and in their midst, the little Queen. 

"Well, Queen Judith, I see you are much more to be reckoned with than just a cute conny," said with a mocking bow.

Her mouth twisted at the term, but answered lightly, "Beginner's luck, perhaps?"

"Or a gambler's. I assume you let loose your defenders in the palace rather than wait for outside support?"

"To the last mammal." She admitted.

"Considering the stakes, and how thorough the win, very much worth the risk." He nodded his head. "Can I ask, what happened to my army?" 

'A few made it back across the boarder, but most fought hard and were not keen on surrender." Was that a little bit of remorse in her over that?

"Don't worry Little Queen, they knew their duty, and likely fate at the paws of your folk."

The Doe visibly bristled at that. "We do not slay an honest surrender. Honorable defeat should not equate to death."

"Oh? And what would you do with prisoners? Maim them so they cannot fight again, or enslave them, either for yourselves or to foreign markets?"

"A negotiated release, an exchange of prisoner, if possible, or simply holding them until the unpleasantness was over." Said between clenched jaws. She was clearly affronted with his suggested.

"After an end to the war? All old white muzzles if left that long. And prisoner exchange? I'm afraid the Empire isn't going to be much for taking prisoners, especially prey folk." Said almost apologetically. 

Judith only sighed at that. "As for you, do you think your Empress would want you back?"

The Tiger visibly cringed at that prospect. "Well, I could be turned back over to her for a hopefully quick death, but I suspect she might have something more elaborate in store for my failure. Or you can hold me for the time it takes for her to reduce you and yours to a fading memory. And she'd have at me then." 

"Or," and the bunny gave him a calculating look, "I could have you shipped off to across the waters?" 

"Far exile? To slavers or barbarians?"

"I was thinking a little further, say the Spice Lands. Plenty of your race there." 

"Oh really?" That was intriguing. 

"True, you'd be nameless there, but with a small bag and your sword at your side, you could do well."

00000

The landless Tiger, now known as Janka, considered that strange little doe again. It would have been so easy to have him dead in so many ways, and in the normal course of things he would have expected nothing more. But here he stood, unsurely, on that ship's deck, with a surprising number of other anonymous beasts, all going to a distant land were they could find their fortune in any number of ways. 

It was a shame that the Queen wouldn't last much longer, the likely wrath of the Empress would be awful. But he couldn't help but wonder how it would play out and that he was rather keen on seeing it for himself.


	3. Chapter 3

The Imperial chambers, the Capital of Empire 

Celia paced around the council room, her advisors and aides standing very still. Her sisters, lounging in the background, were the only other sign of animation, nibbling on little snacks and chatting among themselves. 

"Is there any good news in the Empire? All I see here is dissention." Waving across a great map of the lands. "And out right rebellion here!" slapping the symbol for House Hopps.

"House Lynx is ready to take up where Lord Kang failed. Though..."

"Though?" the Lioness dangerously glared at the Jaguar aide.

"They are concerned that, though they are confident they would persevere, they would be so depleted as to be an empty house."

The Empress turned to her chief military advisor, Bogo. The old Buffalo had been the long-time advisor to the late Emperor, and was still loyal to the Empire, in the dim slavish way of any herd animal, so still had some use. "So, the notion of self-sacrifice, of unquestioning commitment of blood and treasure to one's Empress no longer holds?"

"I suspect House Lynx is being cautious rather than unfaithful." The great dark Bull stood stiff and straight, the perfect image of the veteran professional soldier. "The conflicts between those houses had been old history. Both were young upstarts in the beginning, rather evenly matched and neither able to make conclusive advances. While House Lynx merely remains formidable, truth be told, House Hopps has progressed, both in population and prosperity. Though overmatched, the thoroughness of the defeat of Lord Kang's forces illustrated how effective an army even of smaller prey can be." 

He then turned to address his Empress more directly. "I personally suspect that House Lynx, by itself, cannot succeed. They might very well spend themselves, and while there they have not displayed any territorial ambitions for generations, Hopps may well take Lynx holdings in this case. If for no other reason than to deprive such to the Empire."

The Empress clenched her jaw a moment and looked over at the rest of her council. Though they said nothing, there was clear agreement with Bogo's assessment. She might yet bolster that house in a campaign against Hopps, but was damn sure it would be House Lynx in the vanguard.

"So what would you have me do?" She looked to the great map, and the various tokens and scrolls there on. "Only the now inadequate House Lynx, and House Crocuta to the west have sworn full allegiance to their Empress. These others," and she pawed at the various documents, "are irresolute at best, likely treasonous in time. 'We need further legal guidance', a mealy-mouthed stall if ever I heard it. Or questioning the wisdom of their Empress, 'for the good of the Empire'. How dare they!"

There were those who knew that the proclamation had disrupted much commerce. Much of the merchant class, as well as craftsbeasts and more were all subject to it. While the chosen species were quick to seize assets for their wealth, all too 'predatory' in their zeal, few were keen or able for conducting new business. True, the Imperial coffers were now brimming, but what was the value of gold with less to buy with it? But that was a detail that dare not be broached without personal peril. 

She gave a mirthless little chuckle, "And Eudorcas, they sent an emissary with my proclamation back to me, asking in all honesty, if it was a cruel forgery." She snarled at that. 

Empress Celia stalked around the room in agitation. "And that Fox. A whole manuscript, page and pages of weasel words and obfuscations. And in the end, can only be concluded, with never actually saying so, that he has no intention of complying." 

She had a special animus for the so-called 'King of the North'. He was of no proper noble blood, and as a Fox, scarcely qualified as a 'real' predator. That the Wolves and greater beasts who swore allegiance to such as him gave question to their resolve in the natural order of things. 

That he ruled out of a sense of collective consent is was what galled the most. Mastery was to be taken, imposed, demanded, not meekly given over. And tales told suggested that he ruled with a soft paw, clearly a weak leader to a weak folk. 

Though he held sway over a vast territory, it was sparsely populated, and it was on the far northern fringe of Imperial influence. Not the kind of holding that could muster any real threat to the south. It's only threat lay with its disobedience, and that could be ignored while more direct threats were dealt with.

"Your Highness, aside from the upstart Hopps, none have yet shown any overt sign of resistance in force." One aide observed. "Crushing them with the full might of your armies would be no great task. Demonstrate your resolve, then be ready for any other house that dare challenge your authority."

"And be so distracted, and forces sent so far a field to leave me defenseless here?" 

"Your Highness, those kingdoms closest to the capital are in the process of complying. Yes, they are dragging their feet. But only to protect erstwhile friends and neighbors within the new status." Celia sneered at that thought. 

That the predator populace had not immediately asserted their full rightful place was a surprise and disappointment to the Lioness. Even more so their desire to harbor the lesser orders out of some incomprehensible - something. For now, taking on a prey species neighbor as slave was a simple dodge, a gesture without cost or consequence. Perhaps they might reconsider their relationship if more responsibility, say, a new tax or two, was part of the deal?

"They want to obey you and will be loyal to you in the end. They would be the buffers to any armed threat by any outlaying force. While I agree with swift and harsh response to House Hopps, if you can afford some small time for further consolidation of your new order, it would provide an extra layer of stability and security."

"And allow Hopps to reinforce her position?" 

"Your Highness, the full power of your armies could sweep them aside without question. But I can appreciate your concerns about such a commitment. In lieu of that, for the time being, it would take little to isolate the 'Burrows territory. A task well within the capacity of House Lynx at no direct cost to you. And that isolation would be not only on land. They have a large coastline and only a small commercial fleet while you have a navy of warships, for blockade or sea-borne attack." 

Another sage beast spoke up. "There are other navies on the eastern sea that might be encouraged to help." 

There were no few questioning looks at that.

"We could give license to the Grey Raider fleet to selectively attack the Hopps coast as well. They only grudgingly recognize the current treaties and resent the lost 'trade' of their former activity. Letting them plunder the Hopps ports would alleviate their 'hardship'."

"And do so also at no cost to us."

Celia scowled, "What next, mercenaries?" 

"For now, unnecessary, and would be unpopular. But, as needed and only on the furthest corners of the Empire, could preclude extending forces too thin and too far when needed elsewhere."

She didn't like any of that. The Grey Fleet had been a scourge for generations, and the treaties had been the one accomplishment that she could grudgingly acknowledge favorably of the old Emperor. And it was mixed species, a fact that would have to tactfully ignored if they were going to have any cooperation. 

Mercenaries were even more distasteful. Loyal only to gold. Recruiting a predator army would mean the dredging of the worst of the outlands; a particularly savage force to launch against an enemy, but one that could turn all too easily. 

But all that was business for the future. There was open court this afternoon. Time to look pretty and enjoy the fawnings of resident and visiting Lords. While these little sessions in her privy court was the meat of her desire to reign, she was finding that the more public role was a sweet treat, more of a fun bonus than she had expected. 

The Fairglade Holdings, House Winter

A quiet knock on the open door frame. "May I come in?"

The atypically striped Rabbit Buck looked up from a table strewn with scrolls. "M'Lady Winter, you hardly need to ask permission in your own keep." And he smiled and bowed to the royally clad Arctic Vixen at the entry.

She carefully answered, "With things as they are, one dare not get too casual, even in one's own keep."

They shared a sad look at that. Before the Imperial declaration, the relationships among the species, and even the classes, had been much less formal. True, everyone knew their place, but there was never the stern sense of enforcement and covert scrutiny at any interaction. 

She walked over to the former King's Hand. He had been all but Son to his Lord, and so close, perhaps too close to the King's Daughter. But all that was gone now. She stood across from her most intimate friend and could only dare share the touch of a tabletop with him. "Working on my Father's petition?"

The Rabbit's countenance turned grave. "He drafted it himself, likely on the day he first received the Empress' declaration." Gesturing at the array of documents before him, "We've been working to get all our affairs in order. Completing everything that can't be left unfinished."

Her eyes widened in fearful realization of that implication. They were so beautifully blue, and he regretted the reaction he saw in them. 

"While there have been tales told of the Empress' temper, there is also the practical matter of travel and the hazards therein." The Rabbit tried to be up beat. "I don't expect anything too untoward in the Capital."

The Empress was said to be volatile, quick to anger and long held resentments even before. The few rumors since her coronation was that she was even more demanding, all that the worst synonym for 'imperious' might suggest. But none of that dare be said aloud.

"If you don't think the petition will succeed, why would you risk presenting it?" She implored.

He sighed. "Because it is the right thing to do, for our Lord's subjects, and for his legacy." He so wanted to reach over and give her a comforting touch. "We dare so much because so much is at stake. The little charade of those false collars wouldn't hold. Even though there has not yet been anything like an official Imperial inspection, word has gotten back to the Capital about the slavery act that our folk have played."

The Imperial proclamation that disenfranchised all prey species, reverting them to serf, slave, or worse, had been deflected by creating sham ownerships, with trusted predator families now claiming prey properties and the individuals themselves as their own. All now wore the iron collar of a slave, of protected ownership, but still enjoyed the freedoms of commerce and conduct as before. But grumblings by a few jealous, greedy, or ambitious mammals were jeopardizing the situation. 

"The petition would specifically secure the status of many folk, and by extension, help so many more."

"Including you..." The princess only dared mouth 'my love'.

The Rabbit grimaced in real pain. "I'm afraid we can never have that again, nor to serve your Father to the extent that I had before." He was not going to tell her that he had discussions with her Father, who was aware of their passion and was not, heretofore adverse to it. 

The King had three sons, and the Heir Apparent as well as his spares, a light-hearted joke in the family, and already had another generation well on its way. Too, there was a large and well-knit extended family of Winter, which meant that one of the Daughters could follow her heart rather than fret over any dynastic responsibility. 

But he dare not tell her that now. It was clear that such a union would be too much an outrage to the new status. Though she was a clever girl, wise beyond her years, he feared she might yet attempt something impetuous, especially with that knowledge.

"Whatever happens, you'll have the comfort of being well away from the intrigues of the Capital and all your family safe around you." 

"Not all of them. I so wish my Father would reconsider going in person." Her paws clenched in dismay.

"You know he does so to give his full weight to it. Even if the Empress rejects it, or worse, she would be doing so on the head of House Winter directly. An act not done lightly nor easily ignored by the other Houses and Nobles of the Empire."

"And you..." She hunched her shoulders and fought back a tear. In the new reality, he could be looked on as little more than meat to any that exercised that prerogative, and the Capital was the very center of that sentiment.

"He is my King, and I would stand beside him. And I would be the embodiment of all who the petition would serve. As my Father before me, I am known and respected by many. A rejection of me, and by extension, all those who's loyal service have benefited the Empire, would demonstrate how far the Empress has gone to ignore wise rule."

"But would she care? Celia of House Pantharius is Empress, and that seems as though that is all that matters to her." And at that, the Vixen gave a fearful glance around for such impious words.

The Rabbit made a little disapproving shake of his head. "Clearly, you've been too long from proper sleep M'Lady." He said in mock admonishment. Then, more gently, "You do need to retreat for the evening. It will be a long night for some of us, and I would not want to see you in anything less than your best before we go." 

They shared a last longing look before she departed. 

00000

"Here is the last of the royal business, M'Lord." The striped Rabbit held out a bundle of rolled documents. 

"Good work, Master Savage." The King gave him a wane smile. He was an old Todd, though in his summer phase, his face was fully white with age. While his oldest, there with him to assist, was a youthful mirror of his colors, many in House Winter did not revert, like his Daughter, and wore white year 'round. 

"You know most of the content, M'Lord, so they need little more than your signet." The Rabbit turned to the Son, "M'Lord Terrance, you might take a closer look, as they reflect our Lord's latest will on some matters." 

"Thanks, Jack." Prince Terry regarded the former Hand of the King as all but younger Brother, raised with the King's sons when Jack's Father served. Then his grateful face fell. "There's Skye's grief on you." 

"She came by my chamber earlier and we shared a few parting words." 

"I'm sorry such was all you could have shared." Their King interjected. "Though some might think you two were unseemly together, she was never happier than with you, you know."

Prince Terry shared a supportive look. Skye was his favorite of the younger generation, she being almost young enough to be a daughter rather than sister. As the pair were highly unorthodox, he had a somewhat more reserved view, but in the moment, had more sympathy for them. 

"M'Lord, who else will be in our party?" Jack asked carefully. 

The King frowned. "Old Toby insists, though he can hardly dress himself." Toby had started as the King's Father's body servant and still insisted on being on-hand for any small tasks for the King all these octades later. 

The others frowned for the old beast's sake, but shared the unspoken thought of how he would want to be nowhere else for his King.

"Meister Long insisted on coming as well. And he would be my preference in any case, he knows both history and the law, so will be invaluable in any negotiation."

Jack frowned, while Meister Long was known and respected in learned circles throughout the Empire, and he would add his stature to the proceedings, he was also a rare and valuable asset to House Winter, and they had been fortunate in his tenure. 

The King recognized his disquiet, but only shrugged. "And if Meister Long is going, his favorite scribe, Kasel, is going with him." Added more lightly, "He said he'd want to be a part of making history rather than merely writing about it."

"Then, we'll have an armed escort to the Capital's boarder, but only to there. I want it to be as clear as possible that we hold the greatest trust in our Empress and will do nothing to even imply any belligerence." 

"And make you all easy meat if the Empress chooses." Prince Terry grumped.

"And we would still be even if my entire Guard were there to try any defense. Moreover, having such at paw could be used as a pretext, 'to defend the person of the Empress' or some such."

They all shared a look before settling in on the last of the night's work.

00000

The royal party looked ready, though a tad bleary-eyed as they stood in final review before departing. The escorting troops, in light marching order, accommodations en route precluded full campaign outfitting, looked particularly smart. To the bulk of the folk who were on paw to see them off, there was an almost festive air to the activity. The Old King didn't get out much anymore, and going to the Capital to see the Empress was a Big Event. 

Those more in the know were a bit more reserved, but were loath to spoil the popular mood. 

The royal family was all resplendent in their finery to make the most of the send off. Master Savage dared not spend too much time gazing at the Princess Skye; least they both betray their emotions in such a public setting. 

As the King was not one for excessive demonstration, after a bit of last minute well wishing, he signaled the guard to go forward. A single trumpet sounded from the wall, simply the call to advance. And they were off. 

00000

The Imperial Palace was everything one might expect, and Jack was hard-pressed to not gawk like some country bumpkin at the grandeur of it all. The King saw his reaction and had to chuckle. 

"Yes, it is all that. I first saw it all as a kit, and couldn't keep my maw shut the whole time. But later spent many a day and night with the Old Emperor wandering the place, talking politics, so got more accustomed to it. But it still demands attention."

Befitting a visiting Lord, they had been given an apartment for rest and preparation for their appearance before the court. It would not do to show up with the dust of the road on one's traveling clothes. Old Toby was delighted to fuss for his King, especially as he recognized the apartment. He had been there before when the King was still Prince Daffit, and was being presented to the Emperor by his Father the Old King.

To avoid any surprises or unseeming moments in the full view of the collected court, all audiences and petitions before the Empress were previewed by her close councilors. They could then give matters some private consideration. Only then would a quick whisper to her ear give Celia a preparatory summation and recommendation before she publicly faced any new business of the Empire. 

And so it was that the King and his party fretted in an antechamber upon presenting their petition. 

"M'Lord, how long will we have to wait?" Master Savage tired not to seem anxious, but for all his time in the more modest court of House Winter, the notion of the Imperial Court, beyond the gravity of the circumstance, was a bit much for him. 

"Depends on the petition and the mood of the court." The King sighed. "Back in the day, the Old Emperor might play games, to either drag the process out or surprise the victim with an immediate audience. He could be a bit of a scoundrel." 

Meister Long said nothing, but gave a knowing nod. 

It was some hours before they were summoned, within the range of formal inconvenience assured the King, and as they entered, Jack gasped at the spectacle of the Imperial Court.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And, since this is a GoT inspired thing, now comes the blood-letting.

The Empress Celia not quite pouted at the prospects of the day in court. On one paw, it had gotten a bit boring, on the other, a bit frustrating. All these petty creatures and their petty concerns, and seemingly unable to fully grasp the notion that she was Empress, and her word was absolute. It seemed like every word she uttered was being questioned. Never an open challenge, but little quibbling requests for clarification or elaborations. Did she really mean that? Is that her real intention? Has she considered the consequences? 

In the face of that, her councilors were wary to bring up new business that might provoke her wrath. The day's possible agenda didn't seem to be too inflammatory. 

"From King Winter of Fairglade Holdings, a petition for accommodation." It was a modest thing, well within the right of a vassal lord. 

The lioness scowled slightly. She remembered that old Fox, a long time friend and supporter of the Emperor. Along with her general scorn of lesser prey folk, especially foxes, that petty patch of ground hardly justified a 'king' to rule it. One of the truly ancient lands among the crazy quilt of little city states that made up the world before imperial unification. 

"So what does the old Todd want?" 

"He seeks some level of accommodation for beasts heretofore in his service to be afforded some limited status to again serve him and the empire."

She snapped her head around to face the courtier, a hiss cut the air. "He What?!" She stormed over to snatch the scroll from his hand. Reading it she snarled. "He claims to adhere to my dictates, then asks me to repudiate them?" She crushed the document in her clawed paw. "Was my declaration vague? Ambiguous? Somehow confusing in the wording? Were there any mention of exceptions, of 'accommodations'?"

"No. Of course not, Your Highness." though keeping his head down, eyes averted, the courtier continued, "He does, however, have the authority to petition, as a Sovereign in his own lands. And it does go on that he will fully abide by whatever decision you make." 

"Curse those petty lordlings and their puffed up 'sovereignty'. They are mine. They exist only because I allow them to." 

She stalked over to the great map and considered a moment. Then, "I need Fairglade reduced. Send word to Reed March and Greyspur. They are to march into Fairglade, under my banner, and have-at whatever they find for their trouble. What's left will revert to direct imperial ownership."

"Your Highness, what about the King?" 

"Let him stew a bit, then I'll have his audience at court."

She considered a moment. "I need a new proclamation. I want the Empire to know that my word is unquestionable law. Written in little words, short sentences. I will not be challenged, questioned, second-guessed by squirmy little beasts, nibbling at my words, trying to undo my will. Get me a draft by the time I see the King."

It was well into the afternoon before King Daffit Winter, Lord of Fairglade, and his party made their entrance in the great court of the Empire. The particular time of day, with the attendance bored or even napping after the midday meals and entertainments, was not lost on anyone. And that it was assumed this was merely a minor pro forma audience didn't stir much interest. However, seeing who was included in his party did make many take notice. 

The Empress had been feigning disinterest in the announcement of entry, not bothering to even glance at the party before they were before her throne. Then she did. 

"What is THAT doing here?" She roared, leaping up off her throne and raging forward to grab the offending Rabbit at the Fox King's side, her claws digging into his neck as she held him aloft. She turned to the King. "You come here attempting to challenge my order on these - creatures - and have the gall to have one walk bold as brass to My Throne!"

King Winter saluted his Empress before addressing her, then proceeded as though nothing had happened. "Your Highness, I brought the one who had been my Hand, who had served me with unswerving loyalty for several good years. Per your declaration, I would not intend to restore that which had been removed. Rather, I seek an acceptable alternate status, that would allow him to provide some level of continued service to me and to the Empire."

Celia looked at the Rabbit, though wheezing in her grasp, had made no effort to struggle and, if anything, was attempting to maintain a level of disciplined poise despite his condition. "How can you serve the Empire, serve Me, you little thing?" She taunted.

"As best Brain and Limb may, your Highness." He managed to croak, paraphrasing a line from the Oath of Fealty. His countenance was pinched in pain, but there was no fear in view or scent. 

"NO!" And the Lioness flung the Rabbit down, though with a cruel twist of her clawed paw that slashed his throat. "It was no when I first issued my proclamation and it is still and forever no now!"

The King chanced only the slightest glimpse of his dying aide, seeing not pain or fear, but only regret at the failure of his part of the mission. "I apologize, your Highness, only now seeing the full extent of your will." He dared not look around him, the reaction of the court, though could hear the whimper of Meister Long's Scribe at the sudden sight of blood in such an august setting.

"My Will! I thought my will was plain enough then. But I'm beset with question, doubts, challenges - to - My - Will!" She loomed over the smaller beast. "Especially from little lordlings like you! That you rule at all is by my sufferance and at my whim you don't." 

"As is your right as Empress, your Highness, and our duty to obey."

That the little beast was showing neither anger nor fear, only a stern courtly discipline only infuriated her all the more. She turned and began up the dais to her throne, then stopped, and not bothering to look back, commanded, "Take them away!" 

A Captain paused by her for more discreet instructions and she whispered, "Take them to the plague cells, chained, and keep all away from them until I see to them later."

She returned to her throne, noticing with some satisfaction the look of shock in the collected courtiers. Maybe now they will take her more seriously. 

A server approached, indicating how he should deal with the dead rabbit. 

"Leave it for now." And her nostrils flared with the fine stink of blood. 

00000

"Despite our exclusion from the capital, I'm finding this duty more than acceptable." Announced one of the pike-mammals as he raised a pint to the collected formation of troops. They were all partaking in a little end of day refreshment. While waiting for the return of their King, they were content to light drill and sparring as guests of the local Imperial garrison. At the moment they were largely stripped down to under tunics and the like to air out and relax. 

"And a gratefully hoisted pint to our hosts!" Cheered another, seeing several Imperial guardsmammals approaching. The salute was not returned, and their countenance was unreadable. Though not in full armor, they did have swords on their belts and some segments and breastplates, perhaps a last minute spar before the light got too low? 

The Captain of the King's formation rose, sensing something was amiss. "Gentlemammals?" 

As one, the Imperials drew their sword, sharp steel rather than practice blades. "You're to surrender yourselves to Imperial orders. Do not attempt to resist." 

The troops looked to each other in confusion. This couldn't be some kind of prank? The Imperials were notorious for their traditions of hazing provincial troops. They were already in any practical sense under Imperial authority. But none of the guards were smiling. The leader glanced back over his shoulder, and in following his eyes, the Captain saw the archers on the walls overlooking the courtyard. Fearing what was coming, he turned back to his troops, "Fellows, it's been - " And was cut off by the barrage of arrows. 

00000

Any formation of troops in full gear was a remarkable sight, especially to simple folk more used to local merchant traffic on the common road. These soldiers in the colors of Greyspur, marching under the Imperial banner, must be going to some kind of special event in the Capital. Any folk who could afford to stop in their labor did so, kits waved, and a few snatched up flowers to offer to the big, handsome males. As they approached the village, there were commands made and a section of soldiers broke off from the column. Then, without warning, they drew swords and fell upon anyone within reach. Many folk fell, a few fled and the soldiers made no great effort to pursue. They then went through the various buildings, it was very much a small farming village, cottages and only a trading post cum public house for anything like business, and everything was ransacked. Fires began as the troops double-timed to the formation, waving some minor spoils to share with their comrades.

00000

It was the ringing of alarm bells that alerted Skye to the crisis and she sought out the inner court and her family. There, several of the family and various others seeking instruction were collecting. Her eldest Brother, the Prince, was in heated discussion with some guards and runners off to the side and everyone was on edge in anticipation of what that might mean. Finally, He broke away and addressed the room.

"I've received word from reliable sources that we are now under some manner of attack. Troops in the colors of Reed March and Greyspur, under the Imperial banner, have entered our territory and seem to be indiscriminately attacking and plundering everything in their path." 

There was a wave of shock and outrage from the collected mammals at that, and it took a moment for the Prince to wave enough of them down to continue. 

"As they march for the Empress, we can only assume that our Lord's mission has somehow enraged her and she now punishes the whole of Fairglade for it." The crowd was hushed by that consideration. "And that means any resistance by arms could be considered some fashion of treason or revolt. However, we cannot allow our fellow mammals to be simply slaughtered, and I will call upon only volunteers who would risk the brand of outlaw to help defend our own and provide a rear guard."

"But where will we go?" Was now the common cry. 

'Perhaps to the North, skirting Greyspur lands. The King of the North seems to be in a kind of open revolt, and there is simply the Wilds as well." The Prince looked doubtful, but clearly didn't have any better suggestion.

"What about House Hopps and the 'Burrows?" 

"It's a long way off and there may be unfriendly folk in the way. And they may not be receptive to the predators among us even if one could get there. There may be some small welcome in other lands. That Reed March would turn on us..." The Prince shook his head. "There may yet be some good will in the population, we have long kinship, even if the crown has gone to cruel obedience to the Empress." 

" I will go and attempt to treat with them, see if there are terms for the sake of our folk. But I don't have great hope in that. But it may buy time for the rest of you. So you must be prepared to fly, yet see to it that we do not abandon anyone to the depredations of the invaders."

Skye was thunderstruck. Beyond the immediate threat, she knew that her poor Jack was certainly dead, her Father likely as well. She wandered off in a daze, only to find herself up in the tower of the old keep, the small, fortified core of that was more a residential palace than royal fortress. Why was she there? Not for some silly love-struck gesture like out of those childish maiden's tales of swooning passions and all that rot. 

She looked out over the lands of her home, and could see a smudge of smoke on the horizon. Then looking down, saw the swarm of fearful folk trying to sort out the possessions of a lifetime into what they could carry on their back or in some small pushcart. The streets were already cluttered with the discards, furniture, bedding, and random objects. 

She went back to her quarters. There was little that could be practically carried. A few travel clothes, a couple purses of small coinage, gold was too much for the routine expenses she was likely to face, though she also had some secreted away for special need. She'd go down to the larder for some travel food later. Then she brought out her prized possessions, a small sword, of maker steel, given to her by her Father, along with the instruction to make fair use of it. Then, a more covert weapon, an assassin's needle, made of a more exotic maker metal, a rather intimidating tool that her Jack had given to her. 

She shook her head at the memory. Why would he have such a terrible and unique weapon? True, she did not know of the full extent of his service to her Father the King, but he had claimed that, as he had then become the King's Hand, he did not need it anymore. 

Then what to do? Hardly slink off as some anonymous mammal. Likely oversee a party of refugees. She could represent Family Winter to any who still held it in regard. 

00000

King Arctus XVII, Master of Greyspur, cheered on his party of Lords. "Come now, my scouts have found us some small sport." The collection of beasts looked like they were out on a picnic, the several carts of provisions and retinue of servers certainly supported the image. But the distant smoke of burning villages, some of which had been torched by the members to get a little direct taste of the mayhem that was sweeping across the land, suggested a much darker game. 

A guide signaled pause just short of a grassy ridge, then trotted back to report. "My King, there's a column of mammals, I believe they may include the Winter household. Have a couple of guards, but many females and kits, and very mixed, a lot of prey there."

"Predators mingling with prey, and in the service of that traitor of a king." The King sneered. He flexed his paws, his claws sharpened and lacquered, black with a thin line of silver to enhance the highlight. He was big for a common black bear, towering over the lesser predators, mostly great cats, who accompanied him. "Clearly they deserve their fate as our afternoon's entertainment."

Arctus XVII had not bothered to head his army, especially as it had scattered into smaller units to better sweep the countryside. Letting the forces of that old Cat take the capitol was fine with him. Word was that there was now some resistance and the effort was going to cost him. The suddenness of the attacks had precluded Winter from properly rallying their forces into a full army. That left his beasts to pick off the fleeing inhabitances at their leisure. 

He approached the crest, and was delighted with what he saw, a goodly crowd, and open ground well beyond. Plenty of opportunity to chase down runners. Or a little archery practice. He waved the rest forward and indicated that they come over in unison, dramatic effect and all. 

The crowd below saw them quickly enough and, as expected, a few were running, but the bulk bunched up to something akin to a battle line, using the collection of small carts at a barrier. But aside from a couple or three pike beasts, there seemed to be only staffs and a few knives in the bunch. 

"My friends, let's be off!" He signaled and most sauntered forward. Their goal wasn't going to get very far so they need not exert themselves too much too soon. A couple more excited lords charged ahead, keen on giving chase to anyone so driven to attempt escape. 

The King watched in private amusement as those more impetuous fellows come to bad ends with sling bullets before they could get too close. He looked to his guest to see them prepare for some combat. Several of the lords had brought shields that they were now unslinging for use or at least a level of armor to protect them, and their numbers would divide any defense. 

"Looks like we'll have some spice after all, M'Lord."

And so it seemed. But the King was hardly worried. Some small losses were to be expected in any blood sport. The rest of his party seemed hardly moved by the loss of their fellow lords, if anything it piqued their zeal for the action ahead. Then, as he was surveying the mood of his party, he caught sight of another body of mammals. 

"Who is that?" He pointed to one of his underlings, who indicated he'd take a closer look. They held no colors though looked like a small company of soldiers, perhaps. A few noticed their King pausing and too stopped and looked. As the mystery mammals approached, it became clear that they were well armed, and had a mix of species, including prey. 

"They must be Winter's troops!" One of the lords gasped. "An outlaying force, come to defend..." And at that, the King's party looked around in alarm. They were over-matched in number, and too many were over-fed courtiers, the few veterans now grey muzzles or worse. Running was not an option. And attempting to seize the refugees as hostages seemed doubtful, as they had already demonstrated an unexpected level of resistance. Given the circumstance, simple surrender also seemed questionable. 

"We'll take down what we can, Lords of Greyspur!" Roared the King in defiance, though he knew his status might yet insure his personal survival even in the end. 

The action was short and savage. The Fairglade troops were driven by outrage and afforded no respect for class or condition of any who wore the colors of their despoilers. It was only the last little knot of the enemy, all bloodied, but not yet fallen, did they finally give pause. And in that, the King yielded, as did those few at his side. There was some debate in the ranks whether to honor the surrender, as the invaders had not shown any mercy to their kin. 

Then a royal command brought their attention. It was the slight form of the Princess Skye. Though in common travel garb, her bright white countenance shown forth and drew the attention of all.

"King Arctus. I knew you never held us in high esteem, but this..." She waved her arm to the ruined lands around them. 

"By order of our Empress. Your Father was denounced as outlaw and all you have is forfeit."

The little Vixen scowled at that news. "But this." pointing at the remains of his company. "Some kind of perverse hunting party?" 

"Her instructions gave us license..." 

Skye restrained herself, then through clenched teeth, "What were her orders, exactly? The words." 

"As best I can recall, that Fairglade was to be reduced, and what remained to revert to the Empire directly." 

"Reduced? Just that?" Such would mean he was free to do anything, anything at all. "You seem all too keen on that full exercise."

"As our Empress commands." 

Princess Skye turned to her troops, "Take all their weapons and armor, then leave them." She walked back to the refugee column and rested her head against one of the carts. 

Seeing her distress, one of the erstwhile household staff came to her. "Are you well, M'Lady?" 

Skye looked up to the earnest eyes of concern. "Lady no more. The Empress has damned my House as outlaw. But it does nothing for my responsibilities to you and yours." 

"Bless you, M'Lady. Outlaw it is then?" The cow looked over to the cluster of nobles sprawled up slope. "So it doesn't matter what we might do..." And she looked to the others who had been in such deadly jeopardy only moments before. Without a word the crowd took up implements. 

Skye knew what was going to happen next, as she had made sure the nobles, the King in particular, would be unarmed, but she didn't want to witness any of it. Instead, she sought out the several kits who had run off with the initial appearance of the hunting party and were reluctant to return too soon. They recognized her, she'd made a point to familiarize herself to the household staff and their families, and they came to her in relief. Fortunately, collecting them all was going to take some time, and she was keen on not having them return too soon. There was bad business that they didn't need to see beyond the carts. 

When it was all done and the column reassembled, now with a substantial armed escort, Skye then had time to consider her situation. Clearly she could no longer be the younger princess of Fairglade. Any who knowingly offered her sanctuary would suffer the wraith of the Empire. But she was a clever little vixen and she would think of something. 

00000

The plague cells were the most isolated in the old keep of the Imperial Palace, intended to contain those special prisoners who might also be sources of contagion. While more common diseases and the common criminals who carried them were kept in a special lock-up well out of the capital, there were more eldritch maladies and notorious villains that needed to be kept closer. 

Daffit Winter, very likely the former king, considered his condition as he heard activity outside his cell. Naked, chained to a wall, he had not had any attention in - it must be some days now, if his parched throat and general discomfort was any indication. He had largely assumed he was simply going to be left to die, thirst was not the worst way to go, but would take some little time. 

And someone with a light at the door. Though just a small lamp, it was still a bit dazzling after so long in complete darkness. It was a guard, armored and armed, and he drew some small satisfaction in that. And the Empress, with more guards behind. 

"My apologies, your Highness, that I cannot better salute you at this moment." he was able to wrasp faintly, and gave his chains a small jingle. 

"Still the sly jester? Even here?" 

"Hardly, your Highness. Merely maintaining the proper forms as best I can."

"Yes. Your performance was impressive. Every step the epitome of proper procedure. And I, of course, played my part. Breaking traditions and the norms of courtly conduct. But none of that matters. I am the Empress, and as I have been more forcefully reminding all, my will is now and forever law. Precedents of the old order be damned."

"As is your right, your Highness." But the fox knew that it was the precedents, the traditions, the old and well-established laws that kept order and obedience, kept the contract of fealty between Empress and all those that made up the Empire. There had been tyrants before, and they had sown the seed of their own downfall by ignoring such. 

"I suppose it is needless to say that I've stripped you of all title? And that the holdings once known as Fairglade are no more as is all of House Winter."

Daffit sighed, "Seems a bit excessive, Your Highness. Though I assume it was done as a demonstration of your resolve in the matter?"

"You don't seem moved, so might I expect for such loveless creatures."

"As a practical matter, I'm too thirsty for tears, your Highness. And it is too late for anything but tears for the rest of it." Then Daffit remembered. "Meister Long and his Scribe. I assume they are similarly engaged." With another little jingle of chains. "I would hope they might be set free. They are in service to the Empire and were only on loan, so to speak, to me." 

"Why would you care what happens to them? They are no kin nor claim of yours?" 

"They are honest mammals, your Highness. As king, they served me and my rule well. Provided well-considered council, and were good company. As a practical matter the Empire would suffer for their loss. And I would regret that they might suffer by my association."

"I can see your affection, as they are of tooth and claw like us all. But what of that rabbit? How could you cope with such things as anything but the lowest little animals?"

"For all the same reasons, your Highness. I valued his service for its own sake, not for how he made his dinner. Don't you still have Master Bogo in your council still?" Daffit had known the great buffalo for some time and regretted what he then did. "He is a credit to his race and a valuable asset to you or any ruler." And in so saying so, likely spelled his doom. But his loss would further hamper the foolish Lioness. He watched in secret dismay as her countenance bespoke her future intent. 

Then, "Your Highness, may I request my final disposition?"

Celia sniffed, then, "What might you have in mind?"

"Well, your Highness, if it were a more public execution, beheading would be the fashion, for pike topping and the like. But I have a feeling that isn't going to be the case?"

"No, you'll simply disappear, maybe with the rumor that you got away, slunk out like the lowly beast you are to cower the last of your days."

The former king knew that would not be a credible tale for anyone who actually knew his character. Or hers. 

"Ah, yes, your Highness. I'm relieved at that, ever so slightly. Never liked the notion of beheadings, a nasty business to consider experiencing. For that matter, the quick cut throat isn't much better. All that being said, could I request an honest sharp thrust to the heart? I know it is a petty detail, your Highness, but short of a glorious death in battle, it seems a less ignoble end, eh?" 

Celia cocked her head. The nasty little beast meant it. As much as she had considered all manner of bad ends for him, simply getting it over with had it's own appeal. Besides, any further investment in him would imply some greater value or import. 

She nodded to a guardsmammal. "See to it. And inquire as to the favored disposal of the other two. Then make sure their bodies are never found." 

Daffit grimaced at the notion that the poor bear and cheetah would not survive, then glanced at the approaching guardmammal, a wolf. "Do it right, lad." Said with a little nod and wink.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some new content. And unlike the version over on Fan Fiction Net, this has been edited by a editor person, the talented BCRE8TVE. Along with catching any number of typos and missing/better words, there was also some useful punching up of bits as well. Hope to do more with him in the future.

"So, how's that plate coming?" The master smith asked the apprentice. The young Hare had shown real artistic skill and this would be his first full work. 

 

"All it needs is the last of the tool marks to be burnished out, Master." The last said with a touch more force than he might have intended. 

 

The elder Coyote sighed, "I know, Lad, but such is the fate of our time." Looking at the fresh iron collar around the young fellow's neck. That was the only detail that differenciated master from newly proclaimed slave, both in stained work tunics and aprons. He then examined the presentation plate, a rather gaudy thing for a newly rich patron. Best not think too much as to the circumstances of that. It was simple, showy design, executed well enough by the silversmith in training. 

 

"It fits our patron well enough." The silver-muzzled old Dog and his youthful brown Buck shared a little unspoken exchange in that. The artistry of this shop graced the halls of kings, and this thing utterly lacked any of the refined character of those masterpieces.Unfortunately, it was exactly what the patron wanted.

 

"However, our patron was promised it be ready for delivery by week's end, and there is more than that worth of finishing still."

 

The Hare cringed at that, expecting some manner of reprimand, and in these new times, more than a mere beating. 

 

The master sensed his unease. "Come now, when have we struck any of our apprentices?" Then paused in a comical start, "Well other than young Michael, but he did use that flagon as a night pot." They shared another knowing look as it was tale more in jest than fact. However, those younger lads within earshot throughout the cluttered space cringed at yet another harrowing threat to life and limb. "I'll take it and get the finals done on it in time," the Master said, taking the plate under his arm.

 

"Master?" The youth was surprised as much for the claim of timeliness as the taking on of the fussy work in those last steps. That is what the junior apprentices were for, and there was an exchange of glances among the likely victims.

 

"I'll have it done by tomorrow, so you can see to the presentation box. The boys in carpentry ought to have it nearly ready." 

 

"But, Master, how? Tomorrow?" The young Hare’s nose twitched in curiosity and the covert audience of other youngsters had ears cocked as well.

 

Surveying the attentive beasts around him, the elder coyote straightened a bit to announce, "That's why I'm the master, all the little tricks that my advanced years has allowed me." Then hunched over, mimicking some ancient, and in a croak, “Not that all you uppity kits would even heed my wisdom.” 

 

The elder Coyote hefted the plate and bade the lads good night, taking it into his private workspace. It was smallish, and doubled as his living quarters, somewhat spartan details, a couple work tables, a scroll rack, shelves full of tools and odd bits, even a couple of books. He lit an array of candles and lamps; the work needed an extravagance of light to catch all the details. 

 

The master peered at the silver work. The boy had done a good job in the forming of the images and the general details, scrollwork, beading and such. However, there were still little tool marks, scratches, and simple dull spots. Pure silver worked particularly well due to its softness, and actually kept brighter than the various harder alloys. Though, as it was so soft, it marred easily and the manipulations showed. 

 

He flexed his paws in anticipation of the task and got to it. To make sure he was up to it, he wiped a finger across an open area of the plate and was gratified to see the surface briefly flow like it had been melted. He examined the effect, a pure mirror smooth surface. The details needed finer attention, and he brought out a small metal stylus and gently passed it over some of the finer work. Those areas too settled into a liquid smooth version of themselves. 

 

While he was well skilled in the conventional techniques of the smithing arts, in private, he could bring forth his full talent as a material mage. Makers, as the legends called them, were a rare and dreaded breed, their powers were often subtle, but irresistible, and it took the deepest treachery to purge the lands of them all those octades ago. Everyone, except him. 

 

He never had the grand ambitions or petty passions that brought out the superstitious fears or provoked the determined resistance that had driven his kind to oblivion, or at least to obscurity. He doubted that he was truly the last, but it had been a generation or more since he had any inkling of his kin. 

 

He had a safe place to work, he enjoyed the mundane half of his craft and was a good teacher to the apprentices. The Boar, now technically the slave of his Bear blacksmith partner, could 'find' old Maker steel and artifacts and ask the kind of prices such precious items could demand. Maker pieces were uncommon, but in the inner lands, could still be found without undue suspicion. The old Boar wasn't greedy or foolish, and in these times, better to avoid unnecessary attention. 

 

Finishing the plate took only a few hours, and then he considered; better to keep to his room to imply a late night. It wouldn't do to finish too quickly. He kept a little hard bread and smoked bird on hand for a nibble, and maybe a taste of port. He was feeling just a bit expansive tonight. Or, perhaps something else. His tenure there had been comfortable, but for how much longer? That particular vintage didn’t travel well and wasn’t something he could share without raising questions. 

 

The rescinding of the Great Peace, and the lesser and more petty exercises of power with this silly new Empress, were troubling events. Beyond the countless tragedies that were now inflicted on most of the population, he suspected there would be an eventual bloody rebalance. Though there had been some quick fortunes made with the shuffling of properties, these were but one-time windfalls, and the great wheels of commerce were threatening to slow, if not stop. Now most of those who had driven it were now largely prohibited from participating in all but the meanest labor or exchange.

 

He found it galling that it would take money, in the end, to drive the needed restoration. All his years had made him more, not less, sensitive to the lives struck by these calamities. He cherished living in a land free of fear, and found real affection in the humble creatures he called friends and neighbors. 

 

As the King was quick to insure his absolute obedience to her Imperial will, much to the grief of those lesser orders in his realm, the Empress would have few pretexts for further impositions. The iron collar meant real servitude now, though skilled beasts could still practice their arts. Most masters were carefully sympathetic to their charges' welfare, so truly needless abuses were thankfully uncommon. 

 

But what was he to do? Should he even dare do anything? He was not one for flamboyant demonstrations of power. Mostly. And there were some practical limits. 

 

He could simply walk into the imperial palace and slay the silly cub on the spot, or do it in a myriad more devious ways. But that would not reflect well. Regicide was still rather frowned upon, and even done anonymously; any hint of his wielding power would not do him any good. 

 

Besides, simply killing the Empress wouldn't solve the situation. She had three awful sisters who would be eager to take her place, though they'd likely turn on each other in short order and save him the necessities. Tragically, it would also likely drag down a great number of better beasts in the process. Then there was the matter of some reasonable succession, and what few prospects he was aware of were not hopeful. 

 

He had to admit that he didn't have the grand strategic mind for the fate of empires and was too far removed to be privy to all the potential court intrigues that were undoubtedly afoot. He regarded his small collection of books, mostly histories, with his small private annotations. Nothing too incriminating if they were left to the local beasts of letters. More likely just scraped off and the pages reused. No one liked history, certainly no one seemed to appreciate the lessons of history. Too many and too heavy to take with him. 

 

Part of him knew that some manner of wider war was likely. The failed attempts against the 'Burrows and the several Imperial takings of ancient and time-honored holdings of erstwhile loyal kings threatened the unity of the Empire. Increasingly, it was not just the prey orders who found themselves at the sharp end of the Imperial whim. 

 

With whom could he ally? Certainly not the bloodthirsty Lioness on the throne. The local ruler was tragically dutiful to the Empire, and would abed her disaster, so he could not ally with him either. 

 

The Fox King? He was weak and distant, though he was providing a refuge for many. Any action against him would be difficult. He was at the far edge of Imperial influence and the territories in his sway was as vast as the population sparse. There was no strong hold or major city, nothing to focus an attack on. His best defense was simply being elusive. Not that the Empire could invest in any major campaign against him. 

 

The truly wild North was ranged around the whole top of the world, too distant, too harsh for any real attention. The fox’s holdings were little better, but they stretched across the continent, a buffer, a broad band of dreary forest, mountains and marsh separating those hard lands from the more temperate and civilized South. 

 

Then there was that Coney Queen. He didn't like the company of rabbits. Though he couldn't read minds per se, he could sense the mood of those around him and rabbits were so emotional. That they tended to congregate in great crushes meant that he would be beset with the collective clamor of all those passions.

 

But if ever a House was in need of help. 

 

So, why, a week later and a bit footsore, was he going to help Queen Judith? He didn't like to think that he had some grand noble ideals. He was too old to allow himself that delusion. Maybe it was just that he'd been in his then current situation about as long as he dared? Though he was a bit silvered, he appeared not so ancient that folks might begin to notice such things after enough octades.

 

It couldn't be that he was looking for some new adventure. They tended to get complicated and uncomfortable. True, he had enough in his purse to not have to camp by the roadside, but was careful not to seek ostentatious accommodations. Cutpurses and worse kept an eye on the character of those passing through. Then there were more literal predators on the open road that he'd rather not attract. 

 

Like the three wolves on the road ahead. 

 

They didn't look like road-weary bandits, more likely neighborhood hooligans, which meant they could be little more than an annoyance, or much worse. If he were a prey, even in the best of the old days, there was always the small risk of being reduced to pies. Nowadays, damn the Empress, it was even legal. 

 

As a coyote, he could be regarded as a cousin to wolves, though kinship was no guarantee against whatever mischief they might have in mind, and especially as a lone traveler well away from any town. 

 

"Nice day," he greeted them, stopping a good many paces off.

 

The three which had been reclining in the shade of a roadside tree, casually rose and exchanged a sneer. "What 'cha got in the pack?" 

 

"A few tools, a couple books, clean loin cloth. I'm a tinker, mostly." 

 

"A tinker? Got any silver in there too?"

 

"I work silver, sure, but don't carry any samples." 

 

"Books? Fancy books?"

 

"Just a rather worn old reference, and a sketch book, designs and rubbing of my work." 

 

One of the wolves seemed a bit piqued at the later, but the other two were unimpressed. Then they made note of the sheathed sword on his back. "How about that sword? Got any fancy blades to go with it?"

 

"Sorry. Again, most of that work goes to custom. And I'm keeping the long blade." The Coyote gave a sad sigh as he simply stood, waiting for what was going to happen next.

 

"We'll see about that." With a sneer/growl, the three pulled out middling quality hand-and-a-half pieces, though they didn't seem too eager to go to action yet. "You could just put your gear down and walk away," they offered, but he could sense they were not likely going to really allow that. One of them began to sidle off to try and flank him. 

 

"Are you really sure you want to do this?" He asked far more politely than they deserved. Their intentions became more focused in his senses and he knew how badly that would end. 

 

One snorted, "One less old coyote hardly needs the question answered." And he brought up his sword to advance on him.

 

After lifetimes of forging the finest steels with just his force of will, touching the delicate balance of a beast's brain was like pinching out a candle, and the three died in an instant.

 

So sad such wasted lives. The two in the road he dragged off to the side, as he sensed could they had nothing of special value among them. There had not been desperation in their motive, as they had plenty of coin. He didn't need any beyond what he already had in his purse, nor would he have touched some of the less common ones. An old trick was to carry a few unique pieces that would inform others of their confederate's misadventure. 

 

He considered pinning their right paws down with their own blades, a brand for thieves, but he had never liked marking even the most deserving dead. 

 

It was not long before he came across the next village, and when he asked about any keeper of the law, he was directed to the master of the town. He was not surprised to see that the Master was a wolf, with no small resemblance to the three.

 

"What business would you have with us today?" The old wolf had seen better days, but his manner was courteous, and he had none of the airs of a petty lordling. He had a pair of other wolves with him, likely kin as well, but done up as keepers of the peace. 

 

"If you have kin of similar nature," The Coyote gesturing to the wolves’ faces, "I'm afraid I have bad news. There are three young fellows out an hour's walk back, dead, by the road." 

 

All three wolves made a sour face. "How did they die?" 

 

"I couldn't say. Two were in the road and I pulled them clear. There was no mark on them that I could see, and I didn't fuss with them or their belongings."

 

"An honest Coyote, eh?" The old wolf gave him a look. Not exactly suspicious.

 

"An old and careful Coyote." He returned lightly. "Bad luck to rifle stranger's bodies." With the unspoken 'unknown circumstance' heavy in the absence. There were others with powers, real or imagined, and one could never be too wary of poison or curse. 

 

"Yes." A sad nod of the head, then, "May I ask where are you headed and your business?" 

 

"Just a tinker and arms smith. Trouble in the east means business for my lot." He made a small shrug. 

 

"Yes. Bad times mean good trade." Said more as an observation.

 

"Though I'd rather be doing fancy work for some over-fed lord than new blades." 

 

That almost brought a chuckle from the old wolf, but his eyes were looking off at something else. "Will you be staying the night?"

 

"Still some daylight out there, and I'd be more comfortable with some extra distance between me and whatever." 

 

There was a look in the wolf, maybe not suspicion, but... He then shook his head sadly. "I'm grateful for your small kindness. Peace and safety to you." 

 

And that was that. 

 

He passed through the next village around dusk, but pressed on. He did want to get some real distance between him and the three. Anyone seeking him would stop there. Best to not be around, just in case. 

 

Fortunately, that was all the drama he encountered until he got to the frontier of Aestivium, the Golden Plain. It was the land just to the west of the 'Burrow, and there would no doubt be an effort to keep refugees and reinforcement from crossing to bolster the renegade Queen. 

 

Despite its name, a fair bit of the lands were wooded, and he chose to stick to roads with the potential of concealment as well as shade. 

 

It was there that he caught sense of others trying to make their way to the east. A party of mixed beasts were trying to get to the border and beyond. He kept well away yet followed with some interest, even to the point of deflecting a patrol of Lynx, forces of the neighboring kingdom tasked with helping secure the border. In doing so, he also found the border territories a bit more porous than one might expect. 

 

House Leopa had enjoyed a cordial relationship with the 'Burrows and House Hopps before the breaking of the Great Peace, so were obligated to close their borders, but local sentiment between the common folk were less concerned with lines on maps. 

 

However, Leopa and Lynx had a more contentious history and the presence of Lynx troops in the territory was tolerated only by Imperial directive. Lynx forces that strayed too close to the border got the attention of ‘Burrows defenders, so much so that they were forced to retreat deeper into Leopa lands. Then, upset by the intrusion, Leopa forces were called back from their own border patrols, so more often than not, armed parties would spend most of their time suspiciously eyeing each other rather than stemming the flow of refugees.

 

For his part, getting through would not have been a problem even with the most alert sentries. He could make himself unnoticed and pass through any mortal surveillance. And so it was that he entered the capital of the 'Burrows, now fast becoming a great armed camp with respectable defensive works well under way. 

 

While he could have simply strode in on the royal court there unimpeded, that wouldn't have been polite. Better to be more discrete.

 

00000

 

"My Queen!" One of the servers cried out, pointing to the floor. There was a glint of something among the tiles, like quicksilver, flowing between the joints towards the collected lords. Several beasts recoiled, several others formed up between this mystery and their Queen. In seeming reaction to the attention, the flow stopped, then drew up to a lump, then into a tiny figure of a creature, vaguely canid in shape. It then flourished a bow in the direction of the Queen. 

 

"It seeks the Queen!" "A magical weapon!?" "A spy!" "Will fire stop it?" And similar alarms provoked the figure to stand with its arms crossed, as though waiting for cooler heads. Amid the exclamations of confusion and fear, someone observed, "It's a herald! A Maker's herald." And the tiny figure made a clapping motion and pointed to the right guess. 

 

One of the Queen's Guards strode up to and knelt down before the tiny silver shape. "Your master seeks an audience with our Queen?"

 

To which the thing nodded vigorously. 

 

There was a chorus of objections to that notion until the Little Queen herself spoke. "I suspect that if our little guest's master wished me harm, he would have had far more devious methods, would he not?" 

 

To which the figure bowed again. 

 

"I shall assume your master would wish to be discrete, if he is what I suspect him to be. A true Maker?"

 

A vigorous nod from the Herald and some gasps from the collected attendants. 

 

She thought a moment, then, "Travern, I assume this little fellow will guide you to his master. Bring him, quietly, here." She looked out at the range of concerns in the faces of the assembled. "I trust you all will keep this in the highest confidence. We do not know what he may wish, fair or foul, but we must pay him every consideration if he is truly what he claims."

 

After the guard had left with the herald, there was a rush of concerns voiced as to the wisdom of the Queen’s decisions. A senior council waved everyone to hush and listen. "Our Queen is right to see to this Maker, what ever his mission. As she so correctly observed, if he had hostile intentions, we would be unable to resist him, be it with force of arms or what little powers any of our lesser wielders might manage."

 

"Thank you, Lord Payen." The young Queen sighed in relief. "Regardless of his intent, I for one am simply curious to meet such a miraculous creature. Even if only half the tales are true, it would still be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet such a powerful creature." 

 

It was a sentiment echoed by a few. As they waited, a luncheon was brought up; both to keep the assembly occupied with a tasty distraction and have something to offer their guest. The wait was not overlong. 

 

Travern ushered an unassuming figure, a coyote in fairly common travel clothes, who bowed deeply upon seeing the august company before him. 

 

The royal party, apparently a general council, had more a mix of beasts than the Maker expected, less than half were various lapine types, the rest were hooved or clawed. 

 

"Your lordships, your Highness, I am known as Kyle, a master tinker and fine metals smith, and a wielder of some craft." His accent was of the inner kingdoms, and he held himself in the fashion of someone familiar with court, though not of status himself. "I would ask if I could be of some service to your cause."

 

"What manner of service and to what portion of 'our cause' might you offer, Master Smith?" The little Queen asked. The Maker was a bit surprised, the Queen was even younger than he had expected. Such a small thing too, but he could sense her steady resolve. This was no scared or over-emotional bunny. 

 

"As you might surmise, I do have some special talents for weapons, as the dagger in your belt is similar to my own product." 

 

Queen Judy was a bit surprised, as it was well concealed, but drew out the small fine thing; it had never needed sharpening nor shown any diminished shine in the history of its ownership by her family for some generations.

 

"There are some other examples in this room as well, even one of my own." And he pointed to Lord Gandolan. "Your boot knife, m'lord, an early piece of mine." 

 

"And a quality piece it is. And has served my family well." He gave a small salute to the Coyote. 

 

"But I can do more than make pretty tools, if need be. And within limits." Kyle held out his paws. "There are tales of makers slaying whole armies, laying lands to waste with a wave of a paw or by bending the weather to their will." His paws fell and shoulders slumped. "And they are all just tales." Then he held up a digit, "But there are smaller mayhems I can inflict. Assassinate a select few or poison a well at a distance."

 

He was secretly pleased at the faces of distaste at those suggestions.

 

"Though I can do some more dramatic demonstrations. I once had a whole first rank of infantry have their sword blades fall off their grips as they drew them in their advance."

 

"Was that you?" Blurted out one of the councilors. "I read about that in the accounts of the Second Peninsular War. But that was ...?" 

 

"Yes, I am much older than I look. But I am not some manner of immortal, no godling or some nonsense. And in that, I do have some healing arts, both practical and special. They've kept me going for a good while. You have some healers with the true craft in your land already, but I might be able to help as well."

 

"And is there a special price for your service?" 

 

"My needs are modest. A clean bed, reasonable food, some space to work." He spread his paws. "And I'm not adverse to any other practical tasks you may have need." Then held up a digit, "However, I'm not an assassin, nor would I be party to torture or atrocity." 

 

"Of course." The Queen glanced around to her nobles, some only belatedly nodded in agreement. "Forgive me if I seem wary, as this seems all too good to be true," the lapine queen added, though it was clear that she was more curious than wary.

 

"I myself have been wondering why I should come halfway across the Empire to offer myself to an upstart Queen in what may yet be a hopeless effort. The walk gave me plenty of time to think of such things." He gestured to the luncheon table and she waved approval. 

 

He picked through some rather nice looking fair, smoked fish and fowl, as some of the lords were also meat eaters of various species. There were also fruit and baked treats, along with more obvious grazing vegetation. But even that was neatly prepared into bundles or woven into little bite-sized forms. "Part of it was the matter of a new challenge. A preternaturally long life includes all too many years of routine. Not that I'm some manner of thrill-seeker, far from it, but too many years blend together and fade."

 

He shifted his little daypack off his shoulder and reached inside to bring out a fat little portfolio. "So much so that I've kept a book to keep my memories straight. Much of it is just sketches and rubbings of designs, my work or that of others which I've admired. It also contains notes and accounts of my times, lest they fade away entirely."

 

"In rereading it, I noticed I haven't done anything beyond minor custom work for more octades than I'd like to admit." He paused and considered a moment, "I haven't done anything adventurous, in far longer." He grimaced at that. There was a lot of recent history that could have benefited from some Maker assistance, pushing events to better outcomes. 

 

Celia’s rule could be traced back to things he was in his power to prevent when her grandsire ascended to the Imperial throne. He did not have the sense of foresight, but anyone with a taste of history and read of character could tell that his line was particularly unsuited for rule. The current Empress was only more public, more unrestrained in her destructive passions, overwhelming the constraints of law and tradition that had heretofore held House Pantarius in some level of check. 

 

"So. I'm back in action, so to speak." He gave the Little Queen a hard look. "I'd like to think that I'm joining you in a righteous cause to restore the Great Peace." A deep sad sigh. "But all I can promise is that I'll do what I can to prevent you and yours from being slaughtered too easily in the storm that's to come."


End file.
